


love gave to me

by dinosaur



Series: 10 Days of Ficletmas [6]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, OT5, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 02:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2835251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinosaur/pseuds/dinosaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall doesn't want a rebuff this year.</p><p>He wants Louis lit up by tree lights like they're kisses of color across the bridge of his nose. He wants to make hot cocoa and let Louis pinch his side when he drinks it too hot. He wants a gentle, undisturbed Christmas with Louis.</p><p>And he's gonna make it happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love gave to me

**Author's Note:**

> amalgamated from [tumblr](http://imlikenah.tumblr.com/tagged/10dof). on a fateful day in early december i had an Intense Reaction to [this au post](http://imlikenah.tumblr.com/post/104209923365/captainasexual-fun-holiday-aus-for-you-to). and my inevitable downfall into the 10 Days of Ficletmas was decided.
> 
> so, on the second day of christmas, i gave to you,  
> nouis: you’re kind of a scrooge and it’s up to me to show you the true meaning of holiday spirit hallmark movie style au
> 
> today we see the real truth will out (aka this "ficlet" is 1.5k please save me goodbye). title from 12 days of christmas.

The first day - well really the third day, but Louis was working the first and the second they had to help Zayn get rid off all the weed and water balloons because Trish and the girls were arriving - but the first day of the Niall's Official Holiday Open Season, he doesn't do anything out of the ordinary.

Louis eyes him the whole day, but Niall knows with Louis you have to ease him into the big stuff like boiling a frog, or else he'll stick his tongue in your ear and hopscotch away.

A silly, fun rebuff, but a rebuff nonetheless. Niall doesn't want a rebuff this year.

He wants Louis lit up by tree lights like they're kisses of color across the bridge of his nose. He wants to make hot cocoa and let Louis pinch his side when he drinks it too hot. He wants a gentle, undisturbed Christmas with Louis.

And he's gonna make it happen.

So the first say, he helps Harry pick out embarrassing Liam one-liners from the year to get stitched on jumpers. He steals Colin for a walk and smiles brightly when his next door neighbor eyes him suspiciously. He texts Zayn calming fruit emoji for dealing with noise and cheer during his naptime.

He putters around the flat while Louis glares at him blatantly from the corners. He's like a solid, prickly ghost of Christmas future. Niall cackles at himself a bit and Louis' eyes narrow further.

Niall wiggles his fingers at him in response.

They spend the afternoon watching shitty hallmark movies because they can't find the remote and moving seems like 20 more points of effort than either of them have at 4pm on a Sunday.

Harry's left a candle out from his Thursday accidental excursion into waxplay and the room smells like cinnamon apple. The slats on the west window have gone wonky again so the sun catches all the angles of the furniture and turns it into patchwork mosaics Niall can only put together if he looks too hard: patch, Louis' finger broken that day in Spain last year, patch, Louis' lip curling trying not to laugh at a joke about tomatoes on the telly, patch, Niall's thigh pressed right up against Louis'.

It takes two hours, and a bit of uncomfortable slumping, but eventually he ends up tucked underneath a grumbling Louis' chin. He smirks into the worn collar of Louis' vest and enjoys the nails that tap his arm a little too hard every time a holiday advert comes on.

Occasionally, he pushes his feet against the edge of the end cushion to make sure the remote inside stays down.

The second day, the weather quite literally throws him a bone. He's got Colin rubbing up beside him, while Louis has a smoke and they argue about sufficient camera coverage of Neymar's face in the Barca's last match.

A cycler passes by with a butcher's wrap and Niall nearly gets his arm wrenched off as Colin takes off after it. Louis nearly gets his arm wrenched off when Niall reaches out to bring him along. It's a rush, and a might painful. Which is standard fair as far as anything involving Louis goes.

Niall is delighted.

He's even more delighted when they end up finally slowing down 3 blocks later when they reach the park and Colin has more to explore simply by nosing the dirty ground.

It's mostly empty, because there's a fine crunchy layer of ice in the grass and flakes skipping on the wind. They both collapse onto the ground anyway, breathless and lightheaded but still trying to get more air to laugh with.

Niall curls there, his head on Louis' rising and falling chest and watches Colin explore the winter wonderland around them.

The third day, he sets the timer on the pancakes for 55 instead of 5. Louis finds them by 25 and then finds Niall making sad, sadder, saddest faces in the hallway mirror.

"Oh, you sad strange little lad." Louis says derisively, while rubbing his hand over Niall's shaking shoulders. Niall stuffs his fist into his mouth and struggles not to make a sound.

The hallway smells like vanilla from when Lottie came over last week, winked and dropped a gifted bottle of perfume. Louis' in one of Zayn's softest jumper today because Niall hasn't done laundry for two weeks.

Louis sighs very loudly and puts on a put upon face as he shields Niall from looking at the mess of a pan when they toddle back into the kitchen. Then, he pulls out a bit of Liam's mum's famous cookie dough "Spot on, Neil, for misleading old Lemur like that. 'Just leave it over at mine, yeah?' Excellently done, padawan." and two spoons.

They eat in the hallway, popping their heads up into the mirror frame to see who can make the silliest face.

Niall wins.

It's the 9th day before Louis begins to suspect anything.

By then, Niall has had a tinsel fight, discovered the softest fir in all the land, eaten all the melty marshmallows that didn't pass the explosion test, worn a matching ugly jumper under the tearing eye of Karen and had 7 cups of hot cocoa, one to match every one of Louis' "brand new! I swear mate, berry blend, lil bit of hazel, lil bit of peppermint, soooo good." cuppas.

Louis corners him while he's making brekkie at noon, swinging along to Buble on the newly swept tile.

"Ireland." Louis accuses.

"England." Niall acknowledges.

Louis sets the ice skates down on the counter with a clatter. Niall frowns a bit. Those'll scuff the top if he's not careful.

"Aha!" Louis says, poking a finger into Niall's frown wrinkles. "Look at this! I knew it. I knew you couldn't be trusted. I am betrayed by the country I have trusted most."

Niall finishes scooping out his eggies and turns off the heater. He reminds his testy stomach that his plan is working and sailing is smooth. Then he gestures with a spoon at the skates.

"You are betrayed." Niall says, and watches the corner of Louis' eyes where they tighten like they always do when someone pricks him just right in the joint of something that he holds together with cellotape and spit. Niall's stomach rolls and he reassures it again. "But, not by Ireland, mate."

Louis face narrows. Niall eats a bit of eggie. The telly plays a bit of Father Ted quietly into the moment.

Eventually, Louis says, "Our Liam's stolen Harold's only skates so he has to borrow Gemma's for his whatchamawho today. And he's left me out of it, the horror."

Niall uses his good knee and a good chair to stand on the counter to give Louis a standing ovation.

Once Louis has joined him in on an impromptu jig to Santa Baby, Niall follows Louis out the door to make fun of Harold in bright neon green tie dye skates. He covers his grin with a thrice wrapped Spiderman infinity smelling like the depths of Louis' closet.

When they get back to the flat, Niall blocks snow fight out of his spreadsheet, as well. He pats himself on the back.

Disaster avoided, it's smooth sailing, and easy discount gingerbread godzillas up until Louis' birthday in which Niall puts aside his counts and colors and does the day up right. It's chaos in the good way that having friends over always is if it goes right, and comforting in the way that having a sloshed, attention slathered Louis always is if it doesn't.

His nipples are burning by the end of the night. When they lay down in the back with the lads, passing the blunt back and forth, he puts his hands over them and presses down gently. He closes his eyes tightly, opens them and steals a hit from Harry's hand as he stares at his phone.

On the last day, Niall wakes up with his nose against Louis' hair and his leg in between Louis'.

They're all crammed into the master room on a queen. If he looks over his shoulder, he knows he'll see Harry wrapped around Zayn like he's a personal body pillow. Liam is similarly curled around a stuffed Santa.

Later, he'll bring out his guitar and start playing whatever he feels like, probably something light and strong that sounds good in a high tenor. And the boys will join in, more reliable, easier than a reflex. 

For now, he clenches his eyes shut and holds Louis' hand. He rubs his thumb across his broken finger, the edge of the ace, the rough edges of Louis' nails. There's a very faint out of place ease of air and Louis' fingers still Niall's long enough to draw a triangle. Niall's breath catches sharp in the base of his throat, trapped by his pulse. Louis' fingers make an even slower, infinitely precise four point star just above the triangle.

Quietly, nose brushing Niall's chin as he turns, Louis says, "Merry Christmas, Niall."

"Merry Christmas, Louis." Niall says, like he says I'll get the door, like he says, yes we need onions, like he says, don't be an arsehole, like he says I love you.

He blocks out one last thing from the list.


End file.
